Along the Way
by standingstones
Summary: This series follows the adventures of Satheri, Dunmer and Dragonborn, as she traverses the great expanses of Solstheim and Skyrim with everyone's favorite swordsman-for-hire, Teldryn Sero. Follows along with portions of the main questline, side quests, and a handful of well-known modded quests as Satheri comes into her own as the most powerful warrior in Tamriel's present day.
1. Damaged Dunmer

The sensations of persistent heat and pain were the first to register as she stirred herself awake, turning against the feel of the road underneath her. _Dammit_, she thought as images began flooding back into her mind, forming a picture of the scenario before she was knocked unconscious. She turned onto her side and pushed her way up from the ground before slowly lowering herself back down again. _Ouch, slow down_, she mused to herself as she tried to take in her surroundings.

The wagon lay overturned a few yards away, its contents spilled onto the ground. It seemed as though everything was ablaze around her, but she still attempted to make out the various burning shapes scattered about. Her eyes moved to rest on a familiar armor set encasing a burning body. "No, Ri'Zargo!" She scrambled to her feet again, this time ignoring the pounding in her head and the weakness in her legs. It was too late; he was gone. There was no saving her employer, and she knew it was time for action as the rest of the caravan continued to burn around her.

She quickly moved around the flames to search his pockets and salvage what might be left before it was too late. A sealed note lay protected in an inner crease of his armor, yet untouched by the flames. She turned to gather a nearby knapsack, just beginning to burn, and quickly extinguished the flames. She slung it over her shoulder and grabbed a nearby iron mace, hoping that she wouldn't find it too hot to touch. After strapping this to the belt of her leather armor set, Satheri took one last look around and walked beyond the perimeter of the flames. "Azura protect me," she breathed.

Just a few days ago, Satheri would never have guessed that a simple mission to help protect a lone Khajiit on its travels to the west would have resulted in such a situation. For years she had developed her skills as a spellsword, hoping to hire herself out as a mercenary or bodyguard. The money was usually pretty good, as the current political climate of Skyrim cultured fear in many. Satheri was willing to do almost anything, no matter how dangerous, to help bring in the coin that week. Survival in the Gray Quarter of Windhelm was difficult enough given the rampant racism and oppression, so any job that might take her out of the wretched city was most welcome. Satheri wiped angry tears from her eyes as she wandered along the road encircling the burning items. This should have been easy coin. A few weeks on the road with a pleasant Khajiit, looking the other way as he peddled his questionable wares on the road to and from their destination. Neither of them had seen the bandits before it was too late. They were traveling the road south from Windhelm, preparing to venture west across the mountains, when they stumbled directly into an ambush. They had each fought bravely, at least from what Satheri could remember before she was knocked out by the cold end of a greatsword hilt. The bandits must have killed her employer, ravaged the wagon, and left a final touch by setting the whole thing ablaze. What a disgrace. Satheri was ashamed for failing to perform the job for which she was hired; she thanked the tribunal that she was even alive at all.

With trembling hands, she opened the note that she had salvaged from her former employer's corpse. It was short and to the point, and detailed Ri'Zargo's plans to deliver the majority of their shipment to a sister caravan encamped just outside of Helgen. He had been hoping to retire afterwards, merging his assets with that of a larger caravan. _That old cat_, Satheri thought to herself. She wasn't sure what he had planned for her to do after dragging her halfway across Skyrim only to retire, but she knew he would likely have had her best interests at heart. From what little she knew of her former employer, she knew that much at least.

It didn't take much mulling over for Satheri to make up her mind as to her next move. She would deliver the note and her story to the waiting caravan of Khajiit outside of Helgen. It was the least she could do after failing to protect Ri'Zargo, to complete the mission for which they'd set out so many days ago. Satheri did her best to bandage her minor wounds and prepare herself for the journey ahead. She breathed a prayer to the sacred three, to Azura, Mephala, and Boethiah, for strength to equip her on the journey ahead. Then, she set her face to the west and began the journey to Helgen.


	2. The World-Eater's Introduction

Satheri had been traveling for many days, stopping for camp each night when dusk began to fall. She had traveled south out of Eastmarch and into the Rift, and then west across the mountains until her calculations on the worn map that she carried with her indicated Helgen's near-approach. Satheri allowed herself a sigh of relief; this long, accursed journey was nearly over, and soon she could return to doing…something with her life. The sun had begun to rise high in the sky and Satheri shed her fur cloak, tucking it into the knapsack strapped to her back. Her iron mace jangled by her side, its heavy weight giving her a sense of security as she continued into unknown territory. Most of her journeys had only served to take her through Eastmarch and the Rift; rarely had she ventured into the central portion of Skyrim.

She passed a carriage on the road carrying prisoners, all bound and some even gagged. She met the eyes of the blonde, square-shouldered Nord sitting in the back. _Was that…no, surely not_, Satheri thought to herself. But what an uncanny resemblance that man had to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. She shrugged her shoulders and changed direction, her eyes searching about for the telltale signs of a nearby Khajiit caravan.

As she approached several minutes later, the air hung with the smell of spices and forbidden moon sugar, she took note of the Khajiit guard on the outskirts of the caravan. "This one needs something?" he purred, assessing Satheri with clear eyes. Satheri had just opened her mouth to state her business when a large shadow completely blocked the sun. She quickly snapped her head around, stunned to silence when she beheld a giant, flying creature descending upon Helgen. "I-is that a…?" she began. "Dragon!" yelled the various members of the caravan in unison. Suddenly, the camp was alive with frantic activity. These people knew how to pack up quickly and clear their area in search of a new destination and, before Satheri could blink twice, the entire caravan was moving quickly away from the city.

An outcry had arisen inside Helgen's walls, and Satheri could see the large, inky-black dragon as it settled on one of the higher towers. She could tell that the city was already ablaze, and a wall of hot air hit her as she pushed her way through the gate. She had to help, yet felt stupid for finding herself in yet another surprising and horrific situation. She began to grab nearby citizens, pushing them toward the gate that now stood wide open. Imperial soldiers were running about everywhere, their movements chaotic and unorganized as flames consumed the buildings and people who had formerly inhabited Helgen. After what felt like hours, the large dragon seemed to have abandoned Helgen in search of larger prey, and had flown off somewhere toward the north, leaving behind it the aftermath of a truly egregious event.

"It must be heading to Riverwood!" The cry had come from a nearby imperial soldier. "Riverwood?" Satheri questioned breathlessly. "Yes, the little town to the north of here. They'll have no idea the dragon's coming, and I doubt the Jarl of Whiterun has enough troops there to defend it. Someone has to warn them!" Satheri sighed the sigh of the weary while stopping to look around her. She wiped the soot and dust from her face, throat crying out for a drink amidst the heat. _I have to do it_, she thought to herself. _None of the soldiers here can leave their post, and all the citizens who are still alive have rightly fled elsewhere. Someone has to tell the citizens of Riverwood that they might be in danger. _And so, body worn from days of travel but with adrenaline rushing through her vessels, she set off on the path pointed out to her by the soldier at a rapid pace. _I'll deliver this warning to the people in Riverwood, if it's the last thing this Dunmer does._


	3. Dragonborn?

The next several weeks passed in quick succession, with Satheri finding herself the subject of a whirlwind of circumstances. After visiting Riverwood to warn its residents of the dragon and to inform them of the Helgen attack, they had implored her to carry this message further north up the river to their hold capital: Whiterun. Satheri had obliged, wondering at the length of her journey so far. After convincing the guards to let her through the gate, she trudged her way up to Dragonsreach to speak to the Jarl and his court to implore them for help on behalf of Riverwood. Jarl Balgruuf the Greater listened intently and expressed his appreciation to Satheri before referring her to his court wizard, Farengar Secret-Fire. The latter had a very important mission that needed doing. _Gods_, Satheri had thought to herself. _When will it ever end so that I might return home?_ But honor and guilt drove her ever onward.

After traversing the seemingly endless expanse of Bleak Falls Barrow as instructed by Farengar in search of the elusive dragonstone, killing waves of undead and dodging some traps within an inch of her life, Satheri finally set foot in the final chamber. Swarms of bats flew ominously through her field of vision, causing her to unsheathe her new iron sword and ready a fire spell in her opposite hand. As she approached the raised center area with a curved stone wall behind it, she noted a strange chanting that grew louder with every step. As she approached the wall behind the sarcophagus, she could make out a series of symbols engraved on the rock that seemed to jump into her mind on rays of light as the chanting grew ever stronger. _Fus;_ the mysterious word cemented itself on her brain. But what could it mean?

Before Satheri could ponder further, she heard the sharp crack of the sarcophagus breaking open behind her and readied herself for a fight. The draugr deathlord encased within was quite the force to be reckoned with, but it gave Satheri that much more pleasure to tear the dragonstone from its now twice-dead hands.

Her victory in delivering the dragonstone to Whiterun's court was short-lived, as another dragon attack loomed immediately on the horizon and the Jarl was desperate to recruit her help. _Me, fight a dragon?_ Satheri's mind was full of panicked thoughts. Having survived the attack on Helgen was one thing, but fighting and fleeing were two very different situations. _Azura protect me_, she breathed, noting the relative constancy with which that phrase now often entered her mind. Her Dunmer parents would be proud of how devoted she had become in just the past month of her life.

The presence of a fellow Dunmer in Irileth, Jarl Bulgruuf's housecarl and commander of Whiterun's armed forces, was a welcome one to Satheri as a small group of warriors swiftly made their way past the safety of the walls and out into the tundra. Their destination: the western watchtower where the dragon had last been seen. Upon approach, fire engulfed the plains in patches around them and licked at the proud crest on the Whiterun flags. Some soldiers lay dead on the ground, and others cowered within the tower itself. One came running out, yelling out a warning about the dragon having circled back numerous times to further torment them. As he spoke, the shriek of a dragon pierced the air as the sound of large wings approaching reached their ears. All of the company immediately readied their weapons, and Satheri's mind swam with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. If she were to die this day, then at least this would be a noble end.

The battle that ensued was long and exhausting, as none of the company were accustomed to fighting something that had the air at his command. Only when the dragon landed could they manage to make good effort in striking the beast down; otherwise, a sturdy bow and arrows were Satheri's weapon of choice to continue antagonizing the creature. Soon, it showed signs of weakening and, eventually, total defeat. Satheri was closest when the dragon came down that last time, and she proudly landed the final blow. The dragon let out a great scream and then, with its final exhale, a plea. "Dovahkiin, no!" _Did that dragon just speak? And to me?_ Satheri wondered at her sanity, but all these thoughts were pushed aside as the dragon began to evaporate before her eyes. Its skin melted away to expose the skeleton beneath as the rest fell to ash around her. With it came a sudden burst of light and the sound of a rushing wind as the dragon's life force moved from its body and rushed into Satheri's. She fell to the ground on all fours, barely able to process what was happening as she felt the dragon's soul pulled within her own. It was as if a gate within her opened to receive it, and then the soul of the slain dragon latched onto that mysterious word she had learned just a day or two before. _Fus_, the word began to echo within her mind, rattling around her soul unto her body could barely contain it. "Fus!" She shouted the word, and watched as it sent reverberations through the air around her. The guards stood in awe. Satheri looked around in stunned silence.


	4. Seeking Out Solstheim

Satheri half-stumbled off the lurching Northern Maiden onto Raven Rock's solid dock, grateful for the sudden stillness beneath her feet. A sailor she was not, and Satheri was not too proud to admit it. For now, she yearned for a place to rest her weary body and get a bath.

She had arrived at the land of her immediate ancestors, seeking answers to questions she couldn't yet articulate. All she knew is that she wanted to learn more about her heritage…and she really wanted to get away from Skyrim for awhile.

The faint, familiar sound of the hammering of a blacksmith on his anvil called to her from where she stood on the dock. She threw her now-worn knapsack over her shoulder and was comforted by the familiar thud of Dawnbreaker against her leg. After having stumbled across Meridia's beacon by chance and then acting on the daedric prince's missive to cleanse her temple of its desecration, the sword had become a familiar companion of which she was proud. The enchantment it boasted that worked particularly against undead was fairly handy too.

_Bleh, the ash already feels like it's seeping into every crevice of my being._ Satheri thought to herself as she walked down Raven Rock's main stretch. _But, many of my race hail from places such as this, so it's time to settle in and stop acting like an outlander._ Nevermind that Satheri was born and raised in frigid, snowy Windhelm and had never ventured beyond the cold climate of Skyrim. Satheri was determined to make a fresh start in Solstheim for now, wiping the slate clean of the disappointment and sudden, heavy responsibility thrust upon her in her homeland. She knew she would soon long for Skyrim's shores…but not now. Now, she needed to be somewhere new.

The blacksmith, Delvin Mallory, directed her to a few other merchants following her questioning, and then recommended The Retching Netch as a prime local tavern. "They serve the best sujamma you'll find anywhere on Solstheim," he grinned, never taking his attention away from the grindstone. She thanked him, and continued her way around the settlement while light still remained. Satheri planned to pick up as many odd jobs as she could, hoping to replenish some of the coin in her pocket after shelling out on the ship's fare all the way from Skyrim. Satheri enjoyed her time mingling with the locals, trying desperately not to appear like a lost outlander wandering around the land of her ancestors.

As twilight fell, Satheri felt satisfaction at the stack of bounties and missives tucked away in her knapsack. She would have a full few weeks here just trying to complete the jobs she had gathered in a single day, and she felt excitement at the promise laid out before her. She sauntered into The Retching Netch, brushing dust from her leather armor before removing her hood. She quickly took in her surroundings, noting the warmth of the hearth across the room and the gaping stairwell in front of her that led down to the main bar area. As she descended the stairs, a seated figure on the upper level caught her eye. The mysterious individual was clad head-to-toe in chitin armor, with a chitin helmet covering their face. Satheri could tell by the angle of the helmet that the stranger's eyes were fixed on her as she continued toward the basement level. She pushed the stranger out of her mind as she approached the bar.

"I'll take a bottle of the finest drink you have, bartender." The man behind the counter turned to her with a grin. "Well, you're in luck, my dear. I've just finished perfecting the recipe on my very own sujamma: a traditional Dunmer drink. I'm sure you've had sujamma before, but none like my special blend. Here, give it a try." Satheri eyed the Dunmer curiously as he pushed a bottle across the counter with a gleam in his eye. She popped the cork and took a solid swig, delighted to find that the drink actually lived up to its maker's boasting. It was cool, refreshing, yet…familiar. It reminded her of growing up on the streets of Windhelm's Gray Quarter and the Dunmer presence there. She reminisced as she finished the bottle, and then bought a second. "Ah, that hits the spot. Does your variation on this drink have a special name?" she queried of the bartender. "Sadri's Sujamma," he stated proudly. "Geldis Sadri, at your service. If there's anything my fellow Dunmer be needin' during her stay in Raven Rock, please let me know."

Satheri smiled at him, grateful for the acceptance. "Well, for now I really need a room for the night and access to some bathing quarters. Do you think you can accommodate, Geldis?" She pulled a small bag of coin from her pocket and set it on the counter between them. "As a matter of fact, I have a room available right now with a private bathing area. It's yours for the night." Satheri suddenly realized how tired she was all over again, gave Geldis a nod, and hauled her possessions in the direction of her newly-acquired quarters.


End file.
